The Working Dead
by The Rune Reverend
Summary: Sonic works in an office! Behold as he and his friends fight each other for coffee and parking spots, stealing office supplies, annoying their boss and trying not to get fired. And sitting in lots of pointless meetings and having emotionless hook-ups. It's a lot like Game of Thrones, but with cubicles and work ties. (Rated T for some salty language and subject matter)
1. Sonic the Comptroller

**The Working Dead**

**Chapter One: "Sonic the Comptroller"**

(SONIC'S POV)

My name is Sonic and I'm the fastest Junior Comptroller in Station Square.

I have no idea what that means.

All I know is I sit in a cubicle eight hours a day trying to make half-an-hour's worth of work last all day long and I'm surrounded by the most insufferable gaggle of stupidity to ever walk on two legs and put on a work tie. Single, no aspirations other than to not die in a fire, and I'll be damned if I'm making a new pot of coffee.

Currently, I'm standing in the Break Room, staring at the last cup of coffee. DAMMIT! Why me? Always me! The rules are the rules. It's immortalized in a Post-it note above the Coffee maker: "LAST PERSON TO EMPTY THE COFFEE MACHINE MUST MAKE A FRESH POT"

It's 7:35am. Stardate 21949434-what-the-hell-ever. I don't know what date it is. But it's Monday. Piss on Monday. Currently I'm on the Fifth floor of Robotnik Industries: a massive corporate conglomerate in which I am employed. Fifth Floor is a glaring maze of half-empty cubicles, with the other half-filled with useless, faceless dicks just like me. Except the girls, because most of them are bickering harpies with big tits trying to climb high enough in the Corporate ladder to get face time with a company executive long enough to flash some cleavage and hopefully win themselves a sugar-daddy.

We are an eclectic bunch of morons, I will admit that; A mass of bickering, thieving, whoring, dishonest, back-stabbing assholes.

And I reign as jackass supreme.

Piss on this coffee. I'd piss _in _the coffee if it weren't for the fact that my boss has a habit of catching me with my dick in my hands. Funny that there is a file of the times I've somehow had to whip out my junk at work, but in truth there's no easy explanation. There was that one time the toilets clogged and all I had was a flowerpot and Sally just _had _to walk around the corner. She doesn't understand what it's like to have to piss really _REALLY _badly. Mainly because she's so uptight that her urethra's shrunk to the size of a pinhole, so she doesn't actually use the bathroom but once a month. Why else would she look like she's perpetually constipated? There were more times, but hell I can't think without a cup of coffee.

I'm torn to shreds inside (Hey, that'd make a great song title). I _**WANT **_a cup of coffee. I _**NEED **_a cup of coffee. But I don't want to make a fresh pot. This is because our coffee maker was made in some kind of alternate universe where simple tasks are accomplished in the most complex and asshole manner possible. The process you have go to through in order to make a new pot of coffee involves the kind of complexity involved in organ removal. I'd rather chew raw coffee grounds.

I might do that.

"HEDGEHOG!"

That shrill, nails-on-a-chalkboard sound is the voice of my boss-one of about five hundred people-Sally Acorn.

I poke my head out of the Break Room, my gaze going down the side of the Cubicle maze and saw the stern figure of her standing just outside the door to her corner office. See, the Fifth Floor is one massive cubicle farm aside from the walkways lined up next to each wall. Each corner has an office for one of our eight thousand supervisors. I think. There's so many chefs in this kitchen, the only thing it ever produces is Bullshit Stew with a side order of narcissistic rage.

Someone bumped my shoulder. I turned and saw Antoine the Douchebag. His real last name is unpronounceable French gibberish, so I just call him what he is: an insufferable douchebag. He turned and looked at me with his nose turned up. Basically Antoine is too high and mighty to do anything normal, no he does everything better than you and _has _to make sure you know it. Like his coffee. It isn't _just _coffee, no; it's imported finely ground French export from the highland hills of Douchebag-vania, where all the douchebags squeeze their grounds in their ass crack or something.

"Sonique," He starts in his high-pitch womanly voice "Are you to not be hearing Sally calling you?"

Christ, he didn't speak the English language so much as he chewed it up and spit it out.

"Yeah, Ant. I heard her." I tell him, "And I'll be down there just as soon as I..." Oh shit. If I tell him I plan on getting the last cup of coffee in the pot, he'll force me to make the next pot. "As soon as I...check the fridge."

I sauntered over to the fridge and my hand wavered. The fridge was a compacted box of nightmare fuel. It was stuffed with lunches that had been left there and never retrieved. It was so disgusting that I was sure if I opened it, the CDC would declare the entire building a hazardous waste zone. I didn't use the fridge. No one did. The last person who did hadn't been seen since.

I cracked the door to the fridge, my eyes looking inside the mouth of madness. A glowing light presumably from the flames of Hell emerged. An otherworldly voice from inside bellowed at me in a black tongue that had been long forgotten on Mobius:

_**"ZUUL!" **_

I shut the door immediately and turned back to Antoine, who was sipping his damn coffee (which he made in his own coffee maker he hid somewhere on the floor). He even had a saucer for it. WHO DID THAT? He was no better than me. Hell, we even had the same color tie today. In fact, I might be wearing _his _tie, I think I swiped it from his tie rack in his cubicle when he wasn't looking.

"So then you are not to be wanting the fridge? Are you not wanting this last cup from the pot?" He asked.

My cup was empty. So why else would I be holding it? "It's for an emergency." I said, "In case I need to pee in something and the bathroom is locked or whatever."

"Oh." Antoine accepted my answer. Why, oh WHY, is that kind of thing not uncommon with me? Why have I lost count of the times I've had to pee in something that wasn't meant to be peed in? My freeform peeing days were done, dammit! Stop mocking me!

"HEDGEHOG! NOW!"

Our intercom system didn't work overhead, so Sally had to scream at who she wanted. If I waited any longer, I'd get in real trouble. Maybe. I've been constantly threatened with write-ups, but never actually written up, just warned. I sometimes think it's impossible to get fired from here. What have they caught me doing? If it's an offense, I've commited it. What haven't I been caught doing?

Let's see: stealing office supplies (From Antoine), coming in late, trying to leave early without being seen, using foul language (Mostly towards Antoine), belittling other people (like Antoine), sleeping on the job, playing pranks on other people (Mostly Antoine), Being out of dress code as well as simply being out of dress (as in naked), putting metal in the microwave, blaming others for my failures (Antoine again), threatening other people...actually, change that to threatening JUST Antoine. And sex on the job.

Well, what can I say? Our housekeeping employee Vanilla has a balcony so large you could perform Shakespeare on it. That combined with my natural smooth moves and Sally's sixth-sense-like ability to detect when my pecker isn't contained by my boxer shorts resulted in a few awkward scenarios that usually have me telling Sally "This isn't what it looks like."

Sure it might LOOK like I'm plunging into a woman older than me with her skirts around her waist and her legs splayed up in the air...but that's not necessarily what it is.

"Nice cup, Ant." I said, trying to edge my way around him as he stood in the doorway.

"It is not a mere cup, Sonique." Ant huffed, "It is Italian hand crafted from the artisan workshops of Venice."

"How about that. Mine's pretty much the same thing." I said, twirling my mug in my fingers, "It's hand crafted...in China...by a four-year-old being paid two pennies an hour. Isn't it gorgeous?"

The accusation was lost on Ant when I looked down and saw a small hand pouring a carton of milk on his feet. When he looked down and moved his feet, his natural clumsiness taking over and spilling him to the floor. Before he had recovered, I pour the last cup of coffee into my mug and leaped over his fallen form. Coffee and milk mingled together on the floor at his head.

"Nice fall, Ant! Now ya gotta refill the coffee pot!" My partner-in-crime exclaimed, a short little two-tailed fox in a white button-down shirt and an orange tie.

I gave Tails a high-five and walked away from the Break Room scot-free of my coffee making responsibilities. Tails was my best bud, my all-time most favorite person in this dump. He was the office intern, which means he wasn't paid, which means he did a lot of dubious side jobs to earn money so he could intern. What he did on the side to earn money was a vast and various list of things he apparently had no problem doing: from pulling bank heists to selling inhalants that made your eyeballs bleed to male prostitution.

I'm kidding, but I hope that last one isn't true.

"That pompous shit-stain needs his ass kicked." Tails said, "I knew you needed saving, so I pulled an old trick from my juvie days. Pour milk at their feet, then smash them in the head with something. When the guards arrive, I tell 'em he slipped and I was just about to help him up. Man, I miss juvie. Best part about being in prison: people expect you to do bad things so why not do it?"

"I forgot about that." I chuckled as we walked together, "What were you in juvie for?"

"Murder."

"Oh." Don't question it, "Who?"

"I tell you what." Tails said, tucking his hands into his pockets, "They'll never tell me to pick up my room again...ever."

Tails is cool. He's laid back, easy going, and always up for whatever. If I told him I had some shady shit going down, he'd help me with no questions asked. The only thing he wants from me in the world is to be a good wingman and get him into some pants. His prison time made him realize he wasn't picky when it came to genitals, so his sex life is a lot like him: whatever comes his way. He's funny, a sharp little guy to hang with, but damn if he don't freeze up around the girls and guys. I've been trying to find a suitable chick for him to hook up with, but the girls around here are all a lousy bunch of C-words.

Speaking of which.

"Yo, Tails, I gotta catcha ya later." I said as I approached Sally's corner office. "Boss wants me."

I turned to look. Tails had been walking beside me during our walk to Sally's but he was gone. Tails had a really good knack for managing to detect and disappear when trouble or supervisors were almost upon us. If he disappeared, it meant you needed to get scarce and quick. But I couldn't escape this fate.

I pushed open the door to her office and found Sally in her slim, powder-blue power suit sitting in her office. She favored blue, said it was her favorite color. Coulda fooled me. I'm blue all over and she treats me like shit. What a world.

Short, rust-colored hair, eyes as blue as my quills, and a set of slim curve made Sally quite a girl to look at. When she's not yelling, her normal speaking voice has this really sultry tone to it. She's athletic, she's smart, and if you got into a fight, you get the sense she's the person you'd rather have on your side. Too bad it was offset by her character. How can I put this delicately?

She's a bitch.

Not just a bitch, but a corporate PC-enabled, follow-the-rules-or-else kind of bitch. Nothing was ever good enough for her. She hovers over everyone, cracking her whip like a dominatrix. Sally's the kind of pretty girl who could screw up a wet dream. I couldn't even crank it while thinking about her because even in my spank bank she's an over-controlling tight-ass. I tried to have a wank-off with her as the central figure. I won't go into detail, but it involved a lot of spanking and whipping. Even then all I could envision was her telling me it wasn't a good enough job, so I eventually kicked her in front of a moving train and brought someone else a little nicer into my head.

Here she was, hunched over paperwork like a gargoyle. "Have a seat." She barked.

I thought about standing because I liked being a contrary, argumentative asshole, but I'd been standing up long enough. I sat down and took a sit of my coffee. _Blech_. Rancid bottom-of-the-pot crap. I sure hoped Antoine made another pot before I was done in here.

"Sonic, we have to talk about your job performance." She said.

A moment of silence passed between us.

I started to get up, "Well, that should cover everything then."

"Sit down, Sonic." She barked.

Oh, that barking got on my nerves. But my meager paycheck was like a miniature penis: it might be small, but I still needed it. I sat down. I was used to Sally's orders and talks by now. I used a trick I called Phasing Out. It was easy, I just refocused my eyes on the background and suddenly Sally was an indecipherable blur of brown-and-blue in my vision. Her voice was a distant buzzing, like the symptoms of tinnitus or like when your power goes out at night and all your hear is a loud NOTHING.

"HEY! DON'T PULL THAT STARING INTO NOTHING CRAP! PAY ATTENTION!"

Crap, she'd caught on. She knew I wasn't paying attention because I wasn't being a smartass.

"I know your not paying attention because you're not being a smartass." She snapped.

I sighed, "Look, Sal, can we cut to the chase? I got a lot on my plate." HA! Yeah right. Every day I have forty minutes of work that I manage to stretch out into eight hours. The only thing on my plate right now is getting back to Knothole and figuring out how I can piss away eight hours without looking like I'm obviously not working.

"I don't get you, Sonic." Sally sighed, lacing her fingers together. "You're a fast and efficient Comptroller."

"So are you." I said. It wasn't a lie. Sally worked hard. In fact, that was the most conflicting thing about interacting with Sally. This whole company is bullshit, a rigged Corporate ladder that you only scale by paying the right person or sucking the right dick. And here was Sally, our Princess, we called her. Sally was the only person I knew who was genuine about her job. She really thought if she worked hard and did good job that she'd be up the ladder in no time. She tried so hard to do right by her job and all I did was give her shit.

And then I remembered what a bitch she is.

"I've got a job for you, Sonic." She said. "In spite of your past work ethic violations, I'm assigning you a subordinate."

I blinked. "A what?"

Sally's eyes lifted and her cold bitch smile came to life. "I want to show you how hard it is to do what I do. For just once, I want you to appreciate what it's like to be the supervisor, the bad guy, the cloud that rains on everyone's parade, and all those other things you say about me behind my back-including the ones I cannot repeat here."

Dammit, she always knew what he said about her. Somehow, she hadn't fired him in spite of all those things. Oh well.

"You're making me a supervisor?" I sat up in shock. Oh God, here it came. He had to work even more with Antoine. Or maybe he'd have to supervise Blaze, that neurotic cat with the weird habit that had her licking things or sticking them in her mouth. Or maybe the mail girl, Marine, who never shut the hell up. Or, God forbid, Robotnik's daughter, Maria. She gave him looks as if she wanted to skin him alive just so she could see what was underneath.

Sally pressed the intercom and said, "Bunnie, send the new hire to my office."

Bunnie was the secretary-oh, excuse me, Administrative Assistant-that worked, technically, for Sally's boss, Snivley. But in the end, Bunnie did whatever someone asked her. She was sassy, southern, and had legs that just wouldn't stop along with the kind of boobs guys like me only get to dream about. She wore tight blouses, tight, small skirts, and surprisingly acted like she didn't have the body of a porn star. But she would lick the floor clean with her tongue if you asked her nicely enough. She was a doormat, the worst kind.

"This one isn't a doormat." Sally said.

I shook my head. How did Sally always know what I was thinking?

"So no funny business. No making her fetch you coffee, no making her do your work, and above all: do NOT stick your finger in her buthole."

Ah yes, the "Bunnie's Butthole" Incident. The culmination of a series of increasingly embarrassing and ridiculous requests we around the office inflicted upon Bunnie. I crossed my arms, "Jeez, I only did that to Bunnie once and I said I was sorry."

_**"You shouldn't have done it to begin with!" **_Sally cried.

"I couldn't help it! She says 'yes' to anything you ask her! I was just kidding, I didn't think she'd let me do it."

"Then _**WHY**_, when she said 'yes', did you _DO IT_?" Sally asked, the veins in her forehead bulging.

A moment of quiet passed as I contemplated the answer. Actually, her question was valid, but for the life of me I had no good answer. So, for once, I told Sally the truth: "Because she let me do it."

Sally sighed, her head falling down and hitting the desk in surrender. Sonic scratched his chin, "Waitaminute, Sal. Who isn't a doormat? Who are you talkin' about?"

A soft knock came at Sally's door and her head came up with a piece of paper sticking to her forehead. She tore it off and yelled, "COME IN! uh...I mean, please come in."

The door opened and I watched as a diminutive female hedgehog with soft pink quills entered. She wore a simple white-button blouse and a knee-length skirt that matched her quill colors. Very conservative. Not like me. I'm a damn slob and I know it. My shirt was never tucked into my slacks and my tie was always just a little bit loose, sleeves always rolled up. I never wore my blazer. Why bother? Who am I impressing?

She carried a small manila folder with her and gave me a short appraisal look as she sat next to me. She wore her quills in a downward fashion, a cute look for her. In fact, her picture was probably next to the word 'cute' in the dictionary. She was cute, every inch of her. I gave a short, purely man's appraisal (small rack, minimal curves, cute face, would totally bang after a few drinks) and then looked back to Sally.

Sally smiled at him, but it wasn't sweet. It was the kind of smile a woman gives to the man who abused her as she watches him lowered into a car grinding machine. It was the devil's smile.

"Sonic, this is Amy Rose, our new Comptroller."

"Waitaminute!" I cried, "I thought _I _was a Comptroller. What're you doing? Bringing in my replacement?"

"What?" Sally barked, "NO! Sonic, you're our Junior Comptroller. I'm a Senior Comptroller. That's why I'm your boss. And she's not replacing you, I promise."

"So then what is she?" I asked. "Junior Jr. Comptroller?"

"Actually, she's the Junior Comptroller now. You've been reassigned as Junior Comptroller Coordinator to better suit your duties as Amy's supervisor."

"Re-assigned?" I balked at that particular bullshit-sounding title, "Does that mean I get a raise for more duties?"

"Ha ha ha heh heh heh…eh" Sally laughed, a hearty thing that came from a dark place in her heart, "Oh Sonic. Anyway, she'll be sitting near you so you can stay close and supervise when needed. Amy, Sonic will show you the ropes. Sound good?"

I stared at Sally with a blank look and an open jaw. She gave a little wave. Meeting over. I rose, contemplating my life as a new layer of corporate bullshit was draped over my already undead zombie corpse as it went about the daily motions. With a brush of a hand, I was suddenly outside the office with a new employee on my arm.

Great. Just great.

I looked at my coffee cup. It was full of cold coffee. I hadn't even taken a sip. I was tired, hungry, and wanted nothing more than to crawl under my desk and nap until the lights went out. Oh well, might as well make the most of a bad situation.

I poured my cold coffee out into Sally's potted plant by her door and handed it to Amy, "Here. Go grab me a fresh cup of coffee and get one for yourself, too. When you get back, I'll introduce you to the gang."

Amy took my mug and eyed the outside of it, reading aloud, "_Keep calm and Get MILF'd? _What does that even mean?"

"It means go get some coffee so we can make it through our shitty day." I sighed.

"I'm pretty sure Ms. Acorn said-"

I pinched the bridge of my nose and groaned, "Look, Amy? It's gonna be a long day. I haven't slept a wink cause I binge-watched on a whole season of Army Wives last night, the bus I rode had a crazed maniac spewing anarchist propaganda for an hour, and on top of it all I didn't bother eating the brekafast I bought this morning because that new Taco Bell breakfast waffle looks like the Devil's labia, so I threw it out. It's gonna be a looooong day and it's gonna be even longer without coffee for both of us. So quit staring, get us some coffee, and when you get back I'll get you settled into your cubicle in Corporate Hell."

Amy blinked, her eyes cast downward for a moment, "This...uh...this isn't at all what I thought it would be."

I just flashed her a wink and said, "Don't worry, Amy. You don't have to be an asshole to work here. We'll train you."

Amy just gave me a sad little look as I killed her soul. As she walked off, head down and dejected, I said, "Welcome to the Working Dead."

Author's Note: Sonic's POV worked well for this chapter, but I'll be returning to third person in the next chapter. I may use it when I need to do someone's POV in the future. Hope you enjoyed this little slice of corporate life comedy. Let me know what you think and I'll see you next chapter, when we get to meet the gang.


	2. Breaking Amy

**The Working Dead**

**Chapter Two: "Breaking Amy"**

Author's note: Third person POV from here on out. Sonic's POV for the first chapter was helpful and I may do it again with him or someone else, but third person is where I'm most used to working.

Amy's coffee run went on far longer than Sonic expected. Thank God, too. The longer she was gone, the easier it would be to stretch out the day. If he was lucky, the only thing he would have to do today is show Amy her cubicle. So instead of waiting outside Sally's office for an ass chewing that was bound to come, Sonic ditched the hallway and went down to Snivley's office to flirt with Bunnie.

Nepotism ran strong in Robotnik Industries. Snivley was Sally's boss and he was Executive Junior VP Comtroller, but he was also Robotnik;s nephew. He had that whole Napoleon Complex thing going on since he was short, balding, and going through a mid-life crisis, so he drove the fastest, most expensive penis compensation device on four wheels.

Bunnie was hard at work, which meant she was fiddling with her office supplies and jumped when Sonic knocked on the desk. "Yo, Buns. What's up?"

"Oh!" She dropped a pile of pens. "Sugar-hog, ya'll scared me! What in tarnation are ya'll doin?"

She bent over to get the pens that fell on the floor, but Sonic stooped to pick them up. Bunnie smiled, "Thanks, Sugar-hog. Ya'll so helpful."

Sonic handed two pens back to her, "No problem, Bunnie. That's what us good lookin' guys are for, right?"

"Hey, ya'll helped me out plenty. Specially that time you checked me for hype…er, hyper auto…uh, what was that?"

"Hyperautocolonicemia." That was the what Sonic had told Bunnie she might have when he stuck his finger up her butt. And she bought it: hook, line, and sinker. "Nasty stuff. I might not be the company nurse, but I'd always help out a friend."

"Ah think yall'd look cute in a white skirt and paper hat. Next time, just buy me dinner an' a drink first 'fore ya'll start stickin' things in me." Bunnie giggled.

"How about just a drink?" Sonic laughed. "I'm broke."

"BUNNIE!" Snivley's voice screeched over the intercom on the desk, "Not that this conversation about your penetrations isn't fascinating, but I need the Iblis File on my desk immediately!"

"Uh, yes sir, mista Snivley!" Bunnie shrugged as Sonic, a move that squished her exposed boobs together. "Sorry, sugar-hog."

"What's the Iblis File?" Sonic asked.

Bunnie shrugged again.

"Who is it for?"

Bunnie shrugged.

"When is it due?"

Bunnie shrugged.

"Who is assigned to it?" 

Bunnie shrugged.

"Why does Snivley want it?"

Bunnie shrugged.

"Do you think you're the right person for it?"

Bunnie shrugged.

"Is it related to the GUN File?"

Bunnie shrugged.

"You could do this all day, couldn't you?"

Bunnie shrugged.

Sonic watched her boobs bounce for the last time and sighed, "Well, I'll file that away for later. Thanks for the pens, Bunnie." Sonic stuffed a handful of pens into his pocket.

Bunnie looked down. Her pile of pens had been reduced to two, and one was broken. When she looked up, Sonic was gone. "Tarnation!"

Sonic slipped down the side of the hallway and passed up a door that was emblazoned with the words "HUMAN RESOURCES" on it. As soon as he passed it, slinking away without a word, the door opened a crack and a hand reached out, snatched a handful of his collar and pulled him back inside. The door shut, like a gateway to the abyss opening to claim a soul before closing again.

Sonic was thrown into a poorly lit room that smelled like a college dorm. Such was the domain of their Human Resources director, Tikal.

"Gotcha, blue boy!" She said, slamming him against the table.

Sonic coughed as Tikal pressed up against him, "Holy hell, Tikal! How many joints have you been smoking in here?"

"Just one." She held up a weed cigar the size of a kid's arm. "Want some?" She asked, offering the obscenely-size joint, "It's laced with shit I've never even heard of. My dealer said the last guy who smoked it ended up looking like the Nazis in Raiders of the Lost Ark after they opened the Ark. I was like, whaaat? Put me down for that."

Sonic held up his hands, "Uh, no thanks Tikal. I like going fast. Not a big fan of things that make me slow down."

"Suit yourself." Tikal said, "This shit is rockin' too. Now that the new girl's paperwork is done, I'm gonna get shit-faced until I can see the corporeal form of my god Chaos, give him a Jay, and watch funny cat videos on youtube. You ever do that?"

"I get a chuckle now and then." Sonic replied, with a shrug.

"Oh do it like I do and you'll laugh until you puke." Tikal took another toke on her cigar, "Don't make a lady beg for a little attention from a stud like you."

Sonic began slipping towards the door, "When a lady shows up, I'll be sure to remember that."

Tikal laughed, "That's what I like about you, Sonic. You're a grade-A asshole, but you're funny. And sexy. And I'd let you stick it up my-"

"That'd be the only place I'll stick it, Tikal. I know your religion doesn't believe in contraception."

Tikal shrugged and sighed, a puff of smoke rolling from her nostrils and drifting up over bloodshot eyes, "So sue me! I'm an orthodox Priestess. I can either be known as a terrible Priestess or I can be known as the chick with eight abortions. I got to have priorities!"

"Far be it for me to question the will of the divine." Sonic said, slipping back out through door.

Tikal watched the door for a long time and then turned her head back towards the specter of Chaos as it sat on her office couch. It held up a finger-sized joint and said in a voice that sounded like it was traveling through water, "_Who the hell were you talking to_?"

Tikal looked back to the door, then back to Chaos and said, "Whoaaaa-" Her voice cut off as she fell flat-faced onto the floor. Chaos laughed, "Light-weight."

Sonic turned around and immediately ran into Amy, who had stood behind him holding two cups of coffee in her hands. Her blouse and dress were drenched in what smelled like coffee, rainwater, and dumpster juice-at least, the parts that weren't singed off or torn openly. She smelled like a drunken barista. The ends of her quills were burnt , sagging, and smoking. Her face sagged heavily with the weight of a world's worth of emotional trauma. She was covered in cuts, scrapes, bruises, and welts. Her legs trembled She looked at Sonic with open contempt. Her hallowed eyes spoke volumes of horror,

"Do you have _any _idea..._ANY IDEA_…what I went through to get this _**FUCKING COFFEE**_?"

Sonic snatched his mug from her hand, "Yeah, I do. That's why I made _you _do it."

Amy fixed Sonic with a deathly glare and said in a controlled, enraged voice, "After what I went through to get this, I will despise you to my dying day, Sonic the Hedgehog. I'll pass this tale of deception to my children-assuming I can still _have _them after the physical trauma I endured. I'll never sleep without having nightmares-especially after I opened the fridge."

"Whoa! You came back after opening the fridge?" Sonic gasped, "That's like, totally awesome. You must have balls bigger than Knuckles."

"It was another world inside there." Amy said, tears welling up in her eyes, "Every moment was like a lifetime. I died in there and I was reborn as the miserable creature you see before you. I'll make it my life's mission to ensure me and my family tells everyone we meet that you are a liar-the very embodiment of falsehood! No woman will touch you and men will seek to beat you; even the dogs will piss on your name. Snakes will turn away in contempt and pigs will drown themselves after the mere act of hearing your name. I was a woman when I went in there and I've come back a creature full of black hate and snarling contempt. One day, this world will end in flames and when the ashes settle, the name of Sonic the Hedgehog will be the final curse uttered from the last man who dies on Mobius."

Sonic sipped his coffee and nodded, "I can live with that. Come on, we'd better get started."

Amy sniffed, "What the-? You smell like weed!"

"Most people who leave Human Resources do. It's Tikal. She smokes anything that burns. She's an orthodox Chaos Priestess, so she can claim anything she does as a religious exemption. She'll smoke Lemondrop Leaf from the Floating Island as part of her religious beliefs. The fact that it's laced with mary jay, pcp, angel dust, or whatever doesn't cross the corporate mind, cause she'll always threaten a lawsuit based on religious principles."

"She seemed so straight laced and…sober." Amy said.

"Yeah, she was probably hallucinating when she talked to you."

Amy's brow furrowed, "That would explain why she kept calling me Alexis Texas."

"The porn star?" Sonic asked, squinting, "I don't really see the resemblance, but then your clothes are still on. When we get back to my cubicle we can take off our clothes and-"

"-And I can smash your balls with a wooden mallet." Amy snapped, "No chance, Sonic. You will never see me without my clothes on. And if you ever touch me, I will summon the full force of twenty years of Brazilian Ju-Jitsu and kickboxing training to punch you in the balls. My fist will hit your nuts so fast, scientists will find the Higgs Boson in the remainder of your testicles, which will be easy to accomplish because I will move my body so fast that all the positive feelings I have will leave my arm, turning it into a twisted machination of the darkest hate. You will _NEVER _see me naked."

Sonic shrugged, "Not with that attitude, I won't."

Amy scoffed, "Just show me to my workspace."

"Fine. Come with me, young Padawan. We're about to enter the endless domain of Great Forest."

"The what?!"

XxXxXxXxX

**Author's note: Amy must have gone through a helluva lot to get that coffee, didn't she?**


	3. R-R-R-RAY!

**Chapter Three: "R-R-R-R-RAY!"**

"This is the Great Forest?" Amy asked, staring at the entrance to the maze of cubicles next to Sonic, who sipped his coffee calmly.

"Yup. We used to call it the Void, but Sally ordered us to stop calling it that cause it was demoralizing. Doesn't matter, really. Even though Great Forest is a nicer name, it's still depressing as hell."

"Why?"

Sonic snickered, "You'll find out."

"Like I found out that the Break Room fridge is haunted by an Eldritch horror?"

"Close." Sonic said, "But a little worse than that. Ignore most of the dorks you see in here. A lot of the cubes get rented out to outside companies and anyone I don't introduce you to doesn't work here, doesn't matter, is probably a faceless pod person. Follow me and pay attention or you'll never find your way out. My Uncle Chuck trained me how to find it before his forgetfulness got the better of him. He went for coffee once about two years back. Haven't seen him since."

Amy gulped and shouldered her belongings bag, manila folder in one arm, her other hand shaking as she lifted a foam cup of coffee to her lips. "Oh dear God."

"God has no place here." Sonic said, leading the way into the cubicle maze known as the Great Forest. A wooden sign with dark red letters hung above the entrance which read _"Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes" _

"Is that Latin? _**Abandon Hope All ye who enter**_. Is that a joke?"

"I assure you the priest who wrote that with his blood wasn't the joking type."

Amy followed Sonic without a further word. Despite his warning, they barely encountered anyone else in the Great Forest. Amy would catch an occasional glimpse of a figure or a shadow out of the corner of her eye, but by the time she would turn her head, there was either no one there or she would catch a fleeting glimpse of someone hunched over a desk or keyboard like a ghoul. Amy had to immediately turn back so she could follow Sonic, lest she be left behind.

They were stopped in the small hallway by a crazed young man with spiked hair on top of his head. His disheveled shirt was off-button, his tie hanging on loosely. He looked at the both of them and stabbed a pencil at them, "H-h-hold on there, S-s-sonic the WHOREHOG!"

Amy jumped back with a start, but Sonic stood and sipped his coffee. "What's up, Ray?"

"D-d-don't play c-coy with me, Sonic. You took my FUCKIN' BOOGER!"

"What the hell?" Amy yelled.

Sonic held out his hand, "Amy, this is Ray the Squirrel. He's our Market Analysis Coordinator. Ray, this is Amy Rose, our new Comptroller."

Ray's manic eyes narrowed at her, but he smiled and held out his hand, which Amy shook. He said, "N-n-nice to meet you, A-amy ASSFACE!"

Amy jumped back, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Don't mind him, Amy. Ray's got a stutter and he's got Torrente's syndrome, so his speech pattern is all over the place and he's always shouting random shit at us. Right, Ray?"

"SPARTAN DOG!"

"Yeah. He works just outside of Knothole. We're almost there."

"Knothole?" Amy asked aloud.

"Y-y-yeah," Ray answered, "Knothole. T-the only PUSSYFART…er, t-the only p-p-p place in t-the G-great Forest w-w-where WHACK-OFF…where w-w-we can w-work in p-peace."

"Work in peace?" Amy asked, "I don't understand."

Sonic faced Amy, "Look, Amy, I'll level with you. This job sucks. The pay is shit, the people are dicks, the job duties are about as much fun as a wet fart, the halls stink, the bathroom is a bathroom only in the sense that people evacuate their bowels in it, the bosses are dicks, the workers are pussies, middle-management is nothing but assholes, and I swear to Christ almighty that the lighting is a soul-sucking apparatus that will leave me an empty husk. That's what happened to Big." Sonic pointed.

Amy looked into a cubicle across from Ray and saw a large purple cat sitting in an office chair. He was staring up at the ceiling lighting, his eyes unblinking, his body not moving.

Amy covered her mouth, "Is he…dead?"

Sonic shrugged and took a sip of coffee, "I don't know. I think he's in some form of suspended animation. He's not really alive…but he's not really dead either. I've never seen him move, have you, Ray?"

Ray shrugged, "S-s-sometimes I h-hear HOLLERING HORCRUX….I hear h-h-his v-voice."

Amy watched Big's motionless body staring up and when she looked back, Sonic was leaving, so she ran to catch up. "DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME BEHIND! Nice to meet you, Ray."

Ray waved, "H-hey, t-t-tell him he s-s-s-stole my SOCKMONKEY…My S-s-stapler!"

Amy dug into her purse and tossed Ray a handheld staple. "Here. Keep it for a backup."

Ray looked at the tiny finger sized stapler. It was pink and decorated with fuzzy hearts. Ray put it to his nose and sniffed it. "O-o-oh. I t-t-think I'm in L-l-l-Lo-LICKSPITTLE!"


	4. Knothole Village

**Chapter Four: "Knothole Village"**

Sonic swept his arms out wide, "Welcome to Knothole Village. Named thus because we are a knot of individuals who go against the grain. It's a much more clever name than we really deserve."

"Why?" asked Amy, "What do you think it should be called?"

"The Asshole Corral...but that's just me. Come on, I'll introduce you to the Freedom Fighters."

"The what?" Amy asked, again, incredulously.

"That's what we call ourselves." Sonic explained, "I think it was because at one point we thought we were fighting against the oppression of the Robotnik Empire or whatever, but turns out our dear leader Princess Sally was just as bad a turncoat when she got the chance to jump ship and boss people around."

"Okay, I totally did not get that vibe off Sally." Amy said.

Sonic shrugged, taking another sip of coffee. "She used to be so carefree and fun. She was one of us, one of the Freedom Fighters. Used to be me, her, Bunnie, Antoine, Rotor, and Tails. Us five against the world. We used to run circles around ol' Snivley, drive Dr. Robotnik up the wall. Then…Sally got a promotion. Used everything she knew about us against us and had more regulations made to stop all the fun stuff we used to do. Then Rotor transferred to the IT department. Bunnie started playing the secretary game and became Snivley's assistant. Now its just me, Antoine, and the other members of the Peanut Gallery."

Amy shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Sonic pressed forward, "Come on. Meet the rest of the idiots."

There was a sparse opening in the spaces between cubicles where a gathering of six cubicles-four currently occupied-were situated close to one another. The soft murmur of voices, ringing phones, tapping on keyboards, and the hum of the florescent lights. Ever the hum was present, drawing the wayward glance skyward to trap the unwary.

"This is Antoine. He's a stuck-up blowhard."

Antoine's cubicle was much like he was: furnished with expensive knick-knacks and artistic decorations lining one wall over the other. The cubicles were built identical: one workspace plus a computer on one side and a filing cabinet behind the seating spot. Phone, mail racks, filing boxes. The rest was filled by the employee.

Antoine had a luxurious lamp, velvet with yellow fringes, a small smattering of potted plants, and a work chair that was obviously the most expensive thing on the floor.

He spun in his chair, sipping from his ornate coffee cup. "Allo, bay-bee."

Amy stuck her hand out, "Hi, I'm Amy. Uh, nice to meet you Antoine."

"Oh, Sacre bleu!" Antoine gasped at her outstretched hand, "Madmoiselle, where are you to have do the shopping? Walmart?"

"Well, I'm a recent business school graduate," Amy snapped, "So yeah, I have to shop cheap until I can make, you know, _actual _money."

Antoine tsk'd and shook his head, "nononono mi amore, I shall be having to take you to L'Antonio's one weekend to show you how you are to be dressing. Unless, I theenk, you are wanting to look as though you have been dressed in the rags."

Amy blushed and snarled, "L'Antonio's is the most expensive place in town. A blouse from there is worth more than all my monthly bills."

Antoine shrugged, "Ah well, dress in rags if you wish."

Amy's face went beet red and she lifted her hands, fingers clawing to wrap around Antoine's throat, but Sonic's hand shot out and stopped her, "Whoa, whoa, there Amy. We can't just go around choking Antoine every time he says something that pisses us off. It'd be all we ever did all day long."

As they left Antoine, Amy was shaking, "I've never met such an infuriating man in all my life."

"Give it some time." Sonic warned, turning her attention to a new cubicle, "This here is Blaze. She's a parallel Comptroller…whatever the hell that means. She's cool, but listen-"

Amy didn't wait to hear Sonic out. She was so relieved to think there was another normal woman working there that she stepped forward to where Blaze saw in her simple white-button down blouse, and purple skirt and shook her hand vigorously. "Hi, nice to meet you, I'm Amy.' Amy leaned in close, "Tell me everyone here isn't as crazy as Sonic, Antoine, and Ray."

Blaze, her face neutrally composed, blinked twice and then said nothing, lifting a single finger and crooking it for Amy to come closer. Amy moved close, her face nearly touching Blaze's, thinking she was about to impart some female-specific wisdom not meant for Sonic's ears.

Blaze leaned in close, put her hand on Amy's face, and then licked Amy from her chin to her ear. Amy's face went from shock to disgust to revulsion to absolute despair. She began shaking and moved away slowly as Blaze smiled and said, "Nice to meet you, Amy."

Amy grinned the fakest grin she could muster and stepped back until she bumped into Sonic, who sipped his coffee calmly. Amy spun around, her mouth sputtering, but no words came out.

"I tried to warn you." Sonic said softly, "Blaze likes to…lick things. And she puts everything in her mouth. She says _"It's a cat thing". _Like, don't touch anything she hands you, because she has literally licked everything in her cubicle. She chews on stuff all day long and, yeah, she's licked me, too. But she's cute, so it doesn't bother me all that much."

"This is insane!" Amy hissed.

"Pfft." Sonic scoffed, "You ain't seen shit. Wait till you meet Cream."

"Who?" she asked.

"Me." said a tiny, diminutive voice.

Amy spun around, but saw no one. "Down here." the voice said, and Amy looked down to see a diminutive young rabbit standing there in a similar white-button down work blouse and knee-length black skirt.

Amy bent down at her knees and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, little girl. I didn't see you. Are you here with your mommy?"

Cream slapped Amy across the face and then hooked her fingers into Amy's mouth, pulling her close until their noses were smashed together.

"Bitch, in this office, _I'M _YOUR FUCKING MOMMY!"

Amy yanked herself backwards, spilling her belongings and cup of coffee. She scrambled backwards on her hands and feet until she was nestled next to Sonic. She watched as Cream, manilla folder and coffee cup in hand, marched next to her and stared, her eyes narrowing dangerously, "You watch your pink ass cause my foot is itching for place to kick. I got my eye on you, sugar-tits."

Cream marched off to her nearby cubicle and Amy shot to her feet, arms thrown out wide and asked, "What the shit was that about? Who was that little girl?"

"That "little girl" is Cream and she's twenty-five years old and full of piss and vinegar." Sonic said, "She's our housekeepers daughter. To her credit, she's smart as a whip and good at her job-a real go-getter, that one. But her mouth keeps getting her in trouble, so they don't promote her and she kind of takes it out on everyone around her."

"Outta my way, you French piss drinker!" Cream's voice shouted as she bumped past Antoine.

Sonic sighed, "Not sure what the medical term is, but it's a medical issue is the reason she's so short…and flat…and about as lovable as a urinary infection. That mouth of hers is the last thing you need to worry about, just steer clear of her feet. That little bitch can kick like a freakin' mule."

"What did I do to make her hate me?" asked Amy.

"You're just competition to her. You're not a person, you're an obstacle to whatever grand scheme she thinks she's playing. God only knows why she didn't just go into politics."

Amy sighed and put her face into her hands, "This is a nightmare. This isn't what I expected at all."

"Nope." Sonic sighed, "Welcome to real life, Amy. It sucks donkey balls." Sonic put his hand on her shoulder.

"Take it off or I break it off." She warned. Sonic complied.

"Your cubicle is over here." Sonic said, leading the defeated young hedgehog She rolled her helpless, now-lifeless form towards Sonic, who guided to her new center of torment. Amy looked at the open, empty cubicle. A simple computer, a phone, and a small printer were all that occupied her office.

"This is your cubicle." Sonic explained, "Your computer is an obsolete piece of shit, so expect to talk to the IT department a lot. Speaking of which, I hope you have a cell phone, because your work phone is mostly for show. Be careful what you print, because there's no honest way to tell where in the office it will print out. The chair is uncomfortable, so I hope your ass has a lot of cushion. If you need me, I'm usually in my cubicle right across from you."

Sonic went to leave and Amy's hand shot out, "Wait, where are you going? We just got here."

Sonic lifted his cup of coffee. "I'm gonna go get my ass another cup. Gonna be a long day, newbie. Go ahead and get settled in. Hopefully, we can stretch this out to lunchtime."

With that, Sonic left Amy alone in her empty cubicle.

Amy sighed and tossed her stuff on the counter and sank into her office chair and said, "Oh balls." 


	5. Amy Tries to Kill Herself with a Stapler

**Chapter Five: "Amy Tries to Kill Herself with a Stapler"**

Sonic ran into Tails on the way back from the coffee machine and they waltzed together back through the Great Forest/cubicle maze/entrance into purgatory. Tails tried selling him something. "Hey, I got some good shit, Sonic. Primo stuff. The last guy who smoked it got committed to an insane asylum in Guatemala. But they say it works best when you inject it into your dickhole. "

"Nah, I'm cool." Sonic said, "I got enough issues without injecting more into my body."

"Speaking of injecting holes, who was that new girl?"

Sonic shrugged, sipping his coffee as the re-entered Knothole, "Just another destitute soul getting lost in the corporate shuffle. Poor girl, she actually seems nice. She may just be the most normal of us all."

Blaze turned to Sonic as he strolled in sight and said, "Amy's trying to kill herself with her stapler."

Tails and Sonic shared a glance, to which Sonic replied, "I stand corrected. Let's go check this out. I've never seen a girl kill herself in front of me."

"I have." Tails said, "You'd be surprised what a prostitute will do for a few bucks and 3 grams of smack."

Sonic and Tails joined Ray, Blaze, Cream, and Antoine outside of Amy's cubicle, where she had the stapler held to her throat as she backed away from them, standing against her cubicle's back wall with a crazed look in her sad little eyes.

"Don't try and stop me!" She cried.

"Hang on, Amy." Sonic said, "Don't do this, okay?"

Amy paused, sensing a flicker of emotion flood her heart.

Sonic whipped out his smartphone and flicked the camera on, aiming it at Amy, which made the others take out their phones and do similar. "Okay…go ahead."

"Piss off, Sonic. I'm gonna do it! I'll…I'll take myself out!"

Ray stepped up, "A-amy, d-don't do it! You've s-s-so much to f-f-FUCKBALLS…so much to live for."

"She does?" Sonic and Tails asked together.

"Not working here I don't. This place is horrific! You people are the most despicable people I've ever encountered. I'd rather die than work here!" Amy cried.

Blaze chuckled, a pen sticking out of her mouth, "I remember my first day at work, too. I still have the scars on my cervix."

Cream piped in, "Amy, this plan is just like your face: fucking stupid. The company life insurance policy doesn't cover suicides. In fact, if you kill yourself on company grounds, they're allowed to use your body for medical research. And by "medical research", I mean necrophilia."

Amy sighed and tossed her stapler aside, "Then one of you has to kill me."

Sonic, Tails, Ray, Blaze, and Cream all looked at one another…then they all looked at Tails. He seemed taken aback, "Oh for the love of God! I got the last one, it's someone else's turn."

Cream snarled, "I don't feel like getting blood on my dress."

"I don't have a tarp with me." Blaze added.

"I n-need my FLAPJACK…Flip-camera for it." Ray said.

Tails sighed and said, "Alright, alright. Amy, is it okay if I just use one hand? I kinda got an itch that needs scratching and since you want to die anyway, I figured."

"You're sick!" Amy cried.

"Oh, so does that mean I can't use your mouth for a sperm dumpster when you finally croak?" Tails asked.

Ray stepped forward and put a hand on Amy's shoulders, "L-look, if y-you really want t-to FINGERBANG…to off y-yourself, j-just make it l-look like an ASSBASTARD…l-like an accident."

Blaze nodded, "He's right. This place has a horrendous safety record. It should be easy to find something dangerous to take advantage of."

Tails spoke up, "If you don't have the stomach for mortal injury, there's plenty of shit lying around that's highly poisonous: like Sonic's dick. Every girl that's ever touched it has never been seen again."

"Oh, ha-ha." Sonic sneered.

Amy sniffled, a tear rolling down her cheek. "You're all so horrible. None of you even care if I live or die."

Cream rubbed her hands together, "The fewer obstacles between me and the next rung up the ladder, the better. I was hoping you would die when I first met you, cock-knocker. I also stole twenty bucks from your purse. I'm gonna use the money to buy a pack of hamburger meat, then I'm gonna throw it on the ground and stomp on it so that the cow died for nothing. You hear me? THE COW DIED FOR NOTHING!"

Blaze tilted her head at Amy, "Who are you, again?"

"I care if you die, Amy." Tails said, "Cause if you die, I got a couple of clients who pay good cash for a fresh body. And one client who pays damn good money for one that's a week old."

Sonic asked, "Hey, you gonna do that thin g you did with the last dead girl?"

Tails laughed, "Yeah, totally. Everyone thought she was my girlfriend for, like, a month. No one questioned why she had the same look on her face in every picture." Tails turned to Amy, "I took a ton of pics of me and this dead girl, like, watching tv, at the park, holding hands, dancing, playing in traffic. I mean, I kept that gag rolling so long people thought we were gonna get married."

"I feel like shit." Amy sobbed.

Tails tsk'd and rolled his eyes, "I can help with that."

Amy felt a sharp, burning prick against her neck and leapt to her feet, seeing an empty syringe in Tails' hand. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO?"

Tails shrugged, "I shot you up with black tar heroin."

"WHAT?"

"Why, was that disrespectful to a lady? I'm bad with manners."

Amy's eyes dilated completely and she collapsed onto the floor, facedown. Ray, Cream, and Blaze all walked off dejectedly, leaving Sonic and Tails. Sonic tossed his smartphone to Tails and said, "Hey, take a few for me, will ya?"

Tails obliged, lifted Amy's skirt and snapped a few pics, then tossed Sonic's phone back to him.


End file.
